


Your Silver Tongue

by DarkmoonBoar



Series: Main verse/DS3 Adrian [5]
Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alcohol, BDSM, Begging, Big Sub Small Dom, Bondage, Bratting, Clothing Destruction, Cock Worship, Consensual Non-Consent, Cum Fetish, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Edgeplay, Face Slapping, FaceFucking, Facials, Fellatio, Gay Sex, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Kissing, Knife Play, Leather Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Negotiated kink, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pup play if you squint really fucking hard, Ravishment Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Sadomasochism, Sexual Roleplay, Size Difference, Slut Shaming, Small top large bottom, Snowballing, Submission, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation, ball worship, cum-swapping, drugged, gagging, handjobs, neck biting, when bratty subs nearly break a dom's character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonBoar/pseuds/DarkmoonBoar
Summary: Darkmoon Knight Adrian, after a long night of translating scrolls, finds himself the "victim" of someone who wants his tongue.
Relationships: Ashen One/Orbeck of Vinheim, OC/Orbeck of Vinheim, Unkindled OC/Orbeck of Vinheim
Series: Main verse/DS3 Adrian [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798732
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Your Silver Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and heed the tags.

A hollow _pop_ that resonated loudly filled the candlelit bedroom. Adrian sat at his desk with his second bottle of wine open, the other on the floor on its side, scribbling away as he translated and transcribed some ancient scrolls on lunar sorcery. So far, it had been going well, with little to no roadblocks that had him scouring the library for a translation of an odd word he hadn’t encountered before. For the most part, translating Old Irithyllian into a modern tongue proved fairly straight forward. No doubt, the Dark Sun would commend his efforts to help restore an old tradition that the False Pontiff tried to kill. Left hand on the bottle, he took a swig of the dark liquid, his eyes never leaving the vellum he had written and continued to write on.

The dark liquid filled his mouth with a dry, tannic taste that certainly reminded him of dark cherries. A bit of a strange, bitter aftertaste lingered, but he chalked that up to the cork that had accidentally gotten into it when he managed to pull it out with a dagger. A bit of the wine trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and he wiped at it with his fingers instead of staining the whites of his sleeves. Sure, the alcohol dulled his senses a bit, and would eventually make his head swim, but the wine helped him relax. He deserved a bit of a reward, didn’t he, for being so steadfast, so helpful, and always willing to go above and beyond for the Darkmoon and his fellow Blades? Through his combined efforts with Anri, Horace, and a few of the Silver Knights that Sulyvahn hadn’t killed, he managed to recruit more Darkmoon Knights to fill the halls and protect the recovering Divine.

As he finished translating the scroll that detailed a spell able to temporarily enchant weapons with the light of the moon, he felt his eyelids become unusually heavy. He hadn’t imbibed quite enough alcohol to make him pass out or have him feel as leaden as he did at the moment, and now regretted his initial assertion about the wine. Either it had been tainted with some strange, foreign substance, or someone had laced it with some kind of hypnotic sedative, and his training as a Vinheim assassin leaned on the latter. Grumbling curses under his breath, the tall Blade stood up from his desk, knowing that with how much his head swam, he had precious little time to alert someone to the subterfuge before he would simply slip into a quite deep and tremendously stiff sleep. A true poison would have likely killed him already, so someone wanted him very much alive.

Blood rushed to his head and the combination of the wine and the substance it had spiked nearly had him on the floor. He braced himself against the sturdy desk, willing his eyes to stay open and his body to stay vertical. Seath’s breath, what had been put in his wine?! And to make it even more perverse, it actually had a strangely calming effect on him that he found difficult to shake off; if it weren’t for the fact the situation greatly concerned him, his heart would have actually been beating slow.

“Okay, Adrian, just steady yourself and make your way to the door. Need to alert someone because someone is either planning on kidnapping me or torturing me for information or both,” he told himself, stepping forward the door and wobbling as a result. Damn, it was only but a few strides away and yet it felt like a gulf lay in between him and the door leading to the hallway. It raised the question how someone had slipped by all the Silver Knights and all the Blades that called Anor Londo home now, and he didn’t like the conclusions.

After all, it would take scaling Anor Londo from Irithyll with all the posts out there. Or some sort of strange spell that disturbed the way light fell on the subject, but he had only heard rumors about such magic, and that the art of light magic had been lost some cycles ago.

Not only did his limbs feel like stone, but it seemed his body desired to become horizontal and to meet with the floor. Every step forward took more effort not only to stay stable, but just for him to remain conscious, and he felt it slipping more and more.

He violently shook his head, hoping to stave off the slumber that seemed almost inevitable now. His body wanted him to sleep; even his breathing had slowed down, as if he already fallen unconscious. Stringing together coherent thoughts became near impossible, and his plans beyond alerting someone slipped away from him. Just barely able to keep his eyes open, he finally clutched the doorknob with a distinct sway he could no longer stop. But the former assassin found himself unable to gather the will to turn it, even as he desperately tried to keep his hand on it and tried to turn his wrist.

Adrian stumbled backwards, barely able to feel a set of arms not as long as his own catch him and hook them under his armpits. As he felt himself being dragged by someone far shorter than himself, his senses finally went completely black.

* * *

The lanky Blade flinched as he felt the distinct softness of a leather glove caress his face. He opened his eyes, only to see nothing but black, and realized a cloth had him blindfolded. A bundled up sock had been placed in his mouth, and someone went over it with rope to ensure it stayed in his mouth. Adrian forcibly sat upright in a chair, bound to it with rope, and began to struggle. Both his arms and legs had been tied to ensure he couldn’t free himself. Hell, he could only wiggle his fingers and toes.

In front of him, he heard warm laughter.

“Finally awake? Excellent. I was afraid I used enough mystic pepper to put a war horse in a coma and that I had ended up killing you,” said the voice in a nasal, haughty tenor.

“You were surprisingly heavy and difficult to tie up,” they said as the Blade felt hands lay on his shoulders and then squeeze them hard, “I suppose you’re far more muscle than you look.”

The former clandestine scholar tried to say “ _What do you want?_ ”, but it only came out as incoherent and muffled. He struggled against the ropes, hoping whoever had bound him hadn’t done the knots perfect, or that he could somehow wiggle himself free. It proved ultimately fruitless; he could feel the ropes fail to give, but at least they weren’t tight enough to cause discomfort.

Again, he heard a throaty, mocking chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. What were you trying to say? I couldn’t hear you through your _gag_.”

The source of the voice took a strong handful of Adrian’s shoulder-length hair, forming a first, and pulled it hard. It hadn’t been enough to rip out hair, but it held him in quite a vice. The Vinheim exile let out a gasp of pain, shock, and exasperation.

He could hear the fiend breathing through their nose, and even felt a hot puff of air against his left ear. “Now, be a doll and don’t scream for help. I’m sure you have very many questions and I am _dying_ to answer them,” they said as they began to untie the rope gag.

Adrian all but spit the socks in his mouth out. “Why have you bl-” he began to ask in a loud, irritated voice, before his hair got pulled back with one hand and another slapped him against the left cheek hard. It made the cheek red, stinging hard from the pain. The former assassin let out a groan, finding himself a bit embarrassed that the hair-pulling and the slapping had set off a chain reaction. With the sedative wearing off, he found being so helpless perversely arousing, and he desperately wished he could even cross his legs to conceal an impending tent in his leather trousers.

“You’re going to need to speak to me with a bit more respect than that, Blade, or I will cut your tongue out now.”

With a dry, somewhat husky voice, he answered, “Yes, ser.” He paused, thinking of how to phrase it, knowing that any aggression on his part would end up literally bloody. And, after all, he still didn’t know the culprit.

They could be literally anyone, from a particularly dastardly agent of Sulyvahn that somehow managed to survive in the shadows until now, or perhaps a vindictive Finger. And he didn’t have to just think of enemies of the Blades either; it was equally possibly his past at Dragon School was coming back to haunt him, some ambitious assassin scholar seeking to make a name for themselves by killing a former clandestine sorcerer.

He cleared his throat and let saliva moisten his mouth enough that he didn’t sound quite as haggard. “What do you want?” Adrian asked in the calmest voice he could muster, angling his head up. The tip of a sharp blade, oh so careful to not even knick his flesh, traced the outline of his jaw and chin. His breath stuttered as he felt it go down the cleft of his chin, delicately gliding down his exposed throat and lingering on his remarkably large laryngeal prominence before diving down to trade his clavicles.

“Oh, I think you know, dear Blade. I thought about ending your life and making your power mine right here, right now…” the person said, and Adrian could hear a gleeful smirk in the words.

“...But I have a curiosity I want answered.” A thumb pressed itself on his lower lip. Adrian gulped as he heard their breathing grow louder, harsher, more out of control as the thumb left his lip. He could hear the shuffling of fabric, and the possibilities had his mind reeling. _**What did this person want?**_

“Do Blades _really_ have forked tongues?” the shuddering voice sounded thicker, and the hand in his hair angled his head more. If it weren’t for the fact he was bound, blindfolded, and being threatened, the Darkmoon Knight would have burst out into barking laughter at the absurdity of the question.

“Pardon?” he asked, still dumbfounded by the question. The thumb on his lip returned and pressed in hard.

“Your _tongue_. It’s said the paradox of the Blade’s vows make their tongues fork.” Again, the voice shuddered, and followed with several wet noises of slick flesh passing over slick flesh and even more suspicious shuffling of fabric.

 _He’s masturbating. The goddamn bastard is masturbating,_ the former assassin shouted in his mind, finding his mouth suddenly watering, turned on by the thought of this miscreant having their way with him. Again, he gulped in anticipating, feeling pressure build up in his loins that had him wanting to try and buck his hips upwards into the binding.

“Open wide, sweet Blade, and if you even think about biting… well, you’ll be missing more than your just your tongue.”

A hefty bit of rigid flesh bounced against his lips. Gingerly, he licked at the tip, noting in relief they at least tasted like they had bathed and that they didn’t smell bad at all. That thought, however, quickly slipped away as they forced the entirety of their stone hard cock down his throat, forcing him to gag on it. Their shaved balls slapped against his chin. His eyes began to water, and he felt his saliva thicken with mucus. The miscreant began to shove their cock in and out, moaning as the Blade tried to keep himself from gagging so hard he vomited.

Adrian felt his own member become fully erect, undoubtedly visible in his tight pants. Gods, he shouldn’t enjoy being used so much, but it felt so good to have someone dominate him.

“Good boy. You’ve made the right choice. Continue to impress me and I’ll reward you handsomely.”

Both the gloved hands of the stranger grabbed the sides of his face, and Adrian took a deep breath through his nose as they began to fuck his face, making pleasured noises every single time the former assassin gagged and got mucuosy spit all over their dick and testicles.

Then, they pulled out to bounce it across his lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” they said smugly as Adrian felt a small hand painfully grope his erection. The tied up Unkindled hissed in agonized bliss.

“Such a fucking _slut_. Maybe I should have hogtied you on your bed. I bet you would like me shoving my cock mercilessly up your firm, round ass. Bet I could make the Hound of Irithyll howl all night long ‘til he came home over and over again.”

Adrian couldn’t help but let out a pleading whimper of shamed arousal as the stranger began to rub their cock against his mouth.

“You’re not even denying it. You like me using you.”

He felt something press down on his cock and rub teasingly. Adrian let out a strangled noise. He wanted more. He wanted this bastard to choke him with their cock and come all over his face.

“Come on, pretty boy. Tell me. I might be nice and play with the huge bulge you have in your pants. You must be really pent up.”

He felt the laces of his trousers and the tip of a dagger slide up his belly. The former assassin whined and panted, unable to deny the effect this fiend had on him.

“Yes, ser. Please use me, ser,” he growled wantonly, fully opening this mouth and sticking out his tongue. This elicited an amused chuckle.

“Hmm, your tongue doesn’t look forked. That’s almost a shame.”

He felt a hand grab and scrunch up his hair again. “Be a good boy and worship my balls. Surely, a religious man like yourself knows a thing or two about piety.”

Adrian felt his cock throb hard and he squirmed as much as he could manage in his seat. The stranger directed his head to the velvety soft skin of their sac, presumably using their other hand to keep their hard-on out of the way. Moaning, the Darkmoon Knight first licked a stripe on their testicles, then slathered it with his tongue, enjoying tracing the delicate, squishy testes inside them with it. The fingers in his hair rubbed his scalp, as if encouraging him.

Moaning, the mysterious miscreant ran a hand down Adrian’s chest and snaked it in his pants, stroking his turgid, straining length in the confines of his pants. “You’re not wearing underwear,” they stated with amusement, voice dripping with desire, “And you’re leaking _everywhere_. My, my, you are such a tart. No wonder you handle being facefucked so well.” Adrian moaned as he took the stranger’s balls into his mouth, rolling them around with his tongue.

Again, the stranger gasped, the grasp in his hair becoming tighter and the hand in his pants rubbing the slit. The former assassin twitched and shuddered as it shot bursts of pleasure in his spine, so intense it bordered on pain.

“If you get me to come, dog, I’ll let you come for being an obedient, good little boy. You want to come, right? Your cock is aching in my hands. It’s so hot and heavy and hard,” the stranger whispered in his ear, licking his earlobe and then biting his neck. The biting nearly had him undone, and his erection strained in the prison of his pants now more than ever. The Blade took the sinner’s sac out of his mouth.

“Please ser, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll do anything,” he begged against their legs, mouthing at where their member and their testicles met.

“Good. Please continue, you’re doing such a good job, slut,” they slapped the side of his face, more teasing than out of punishment.

Gleefully, the Blade gently suckled on one testicle, then popped it out of his mouth to suck on the other. The hand in his hair kept taut, and the other he could feel and hear them stroke themself, still incredibly slick with saliva. Again, he circled his tongue across their balls, even dipping down to the perineum where he could feel the swell of where the prostate sat inside their ass.

Apparently not expecting this, the stranger’s voice nearly broke. “Oh gods,” they said barely above a broken whisper.

Now grinning lewdly, the former assassin remarked, “If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to lick your arse. I’ve gotten more than a few men to come just from sticking my tongue up there. I can demonstrate.” He could sense them torn on their decision by the way they started to stutter. They were actually considering it. Perhaps Adrian could get them to negotiate on his release, and not just the sexual one.

“No t-that’s not wha-,” they cleared their throat, “You filthy, filthy bastard. If I wanted you to eat my arse, I’d say so.” Then, they pulled his hair back, and slapped the length of their erection across his right cheek.

“Suck me off to completion before I change my mind, dog.”

Nodding, Adrian licked the fat, mushroom-shaped head, maneuvering it beneath their foreskin and wriggling it just to hear the stranger hiss in ecstasy. Then, he took it in his mouth, suckling on the head and delighting in the saltiness and faint sweetness of their precum. He thanked the moon that this person actually bathed so that they weren’t dirty, smelly, and tasted terrible. It would have been infinitely worse otherwise.

Adrian began to bob his head down the length, able to go all the way down to the base of the cock without so much as gagging, careful not to snag his teeth on the sensitive organ. When he came back up to the head, he waggled his tongue against the area where the head and shaft met, then dragged his mouth back down to the base, swallowing around the shaft.

Fingernails dug into his scalp. “Mm, good boy,” the voice purred, a hand now stroking the side of his face.

“Such a good, pretty boy who looks so good with my cock in his filthy mouth.” They bucked their hips just enough that it sent their length down the Darkmoon Knight’s eager throat, and kept shallowly thrusting, just enough that their timing matched.

Before long, their entire body stiffened, and Adrian felt their cock harden even more and pulse in his mouth. They pulled their cock out, stroking it so as to not ruin the orgasm, intentionally dribbling cum on the Blade’s lips before aiming the rest on his extended tongue. The thick, salty, bitter white sticky cum covered his tongue and mouth, hot load after hot load, until they wrung themselves dry.

“Don’t swallow it yet, I want to see it.”

Adrian stuck his tongue out further, doing his best to not swallow it. He felt some of it slide down the sides of his mouth and lips. Two gloved fingers pressed onto his tongue, playing with the seed and sliding it around his mouth and lips.

“Good boy.” The stranger pulled away their fingers, audibly sucking on them before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Adrian’s. Groaning, the Blade eagerly returned the kiss, delighting as they slid their tongue in his mouth and swirled around their own cum. Then, they pulled away, and he felt a string of frothy, semen-laced saliva between the two before the stranger dove in again, this time thrusting their tongue in for more a taste of themselves. Both of them moaned into each other’s mouth, and at one point in the heat of passion, the stranger actually almost sat down on his own needy member, which had him whining.

“Come on now darling, I would love to feel your arse,” he teased with an obnoxious grin, hoping it would incite them into slapping him again. “Sit on me. My cock or my face.” If he could, he’d thrust upwards.

Fingers dug painfully into the sides of his jaw, causing him to cry out. “I’m going to gag you again if you don’t learn to shut the bloody hell up, which is a shame, because I do enjoy your mouth. And if you say ‘Gag me with your cock,’ I will in fact slit your throat right here and now and leave them to find you dead with your hard prick out. Now, be a good boy, and be quiet. Please.”

The Vinheim exile promptly shut his mouth, it becoming a desert between fear and even more intense arousal. Goddamn, this person was _scary_. And he liked it.

“I’m sorry, ser,” he whimpered, “Please forgive me.”

With a thrumming chuckle, they gave his cheeks a playful slap before they began to open up Adrian’s trousers, exposing his hefty erection and large testicles.

“I know, I know. You just misbehave because you want attention. Well, you don’t have to wait any longer, pup.” They began to stroke up and down his shaft, every once and a while swirling their gloved palm on the head. The leather felt so soft and delightful, and how he wished he could thrust up into those small, gloved hands effectively.

“Your cock is positively _weeping_. I have _never_ seen a man’s cock this wet on its own. You’re practically dribbling everywhere.” Their fingers rubbed in the trickling precum, up and down, then in circles.

Adrian moaned, the comment going straight to his groin. He heard movement, and before he knew it, he felt a ghost of a breath on his cock.

“Oh gods…” he whined pitifully, “Please. I want to feel your mouth”

The stranger snickered, planting an obscene, wet kiss on the head of his cock, still pumping the length, before standing back up. At least, that’s what it sounded like to Adrian, with the way the fabric of their clothes moved and the soft shuffling of their boots.

“That’s all you’re getting for now, dog. It all depends on how I feel.” He felt teeth graze his left earlobe.

Nodding, Adrian mewled as they gently moved his foreskin back and forth over his head, each time causing his cock to bob vigorously. Then, they traced lines down from the slit to the base and up again, occasionally rubbing both the slit and the frenulum. Each teasing touch had him gasping, and each touch got him closer and closer to losing his mind in carnal rapture. He could feel his release building up like a thunderstorm on a humid spring night.

Then, they would stroke him again, periodically either stopping, or going from hard to fast, to light and agonizingly slow. Each time had him gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, trying his best to not whine and beg to cum. He wanted his release, he wanted it so bad, to the point he would do almost anything. Adrian couldn’t even thrust up into that wonderful, soft hand to get himself closer. All he could do was sit there and obey as his body tensed up.

“Do you want to cum, dog?” they asked him, sadistic and delight in their voice.

“Yes, ser, I very much do. I would do anything.”

“Is that so?” More arrogant laughter that had him dizzy.

“Yes, ser.” He nodded.

“Hmm.” The hand stopped for a moment, and another stroked his face. Lips pressed up against his neck, as fleeting as the feet of butterflies and as soft as petals. He felt the laces on the front of his shirt pulled open to reveal move of the top of his chest and clavicles. Teeth and tongue traced them greedily, and he felt a smile against his flesh.

“Would you howl like a dog for me when you cum, beautiful Bladeslut?” The voice sounded even deeper and full of lust than it did in the height of being facefucked.

Adrian couldn’t contain himself and groaned. “Yes, ser.” He wiggled in the chair, feeling the ropes dig into him as he struggled.

“Good boy,” the voice groaned, and he nearly yelped as a hand circled around his member and began pumping hard and fast. The miscreant mouthed along his jawline and neck, and a hand slipped down his shirt and began to play with his hardened nipples. All the stimulation drove him wild.

It was building up hard and fast, and being confined as he was only made it that more intense. He now strained hard against the rope, wanting so badly to thrust up into the hand. Just a little bit, that was all he wanted. Just a little bit more. He could feel it in the base of his spine, he could feel it, he was right on the edge. Just a little bit more….

As soon as he felt his pelvic muscles begin to contract, he rolled his head back and let out the loudest and longest howl he could muster, completely without shame at that point, oblivious to the sliver of moonlight shining into his room at that moment. His orgasm hit hard, having him spasm in the chair as he spurted out several ropes of cum all over his chest and face, gasping for air and clutching the armrests.

Despite being spent, the stranger stroked him for just a bit longer, enough to see him jerk around in the chair helplessly, before they began to untie his blindfold.

Immediately, they cleared their throat, and their voice changed into a far softer voice, still as nasal as before.

“Are you doing alright, Adrian? I can get you some water.”

The Darkmoon Knight smiled warmly, glad Orbeck had extinguished the bright candlelight earlier so that it wasn’t such as shock on his eyes.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just get me out of these ropes first, baby. I am one hundred percent spent,” he laughed weakly, watching the shorter former assassin slowly untie the knots. Orbeck pressed a kiss to his forehead, and stroked his hair.

It didn’t take long for his deft hands to get everything unknotted and undone. The Blade sat there for a moment, looking up at his lover with an exhausted but incredibly pleased expression. On the other hand, Orbeck’s expression appeared intense, his forehead furrowed, as he brought over a glass of water and a damp cloth to wipe off the spend off. He did so incredibly delicately, miles different from how he behaved during their roleplay.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I? I didn’t go too far?” he asked as he tried to get the cum off the lanky Knight’s pants.

The Knight took the smaller man’s gloved right hand and kissed the palm, answering, “No, baby, you were fine. If you had been, I would have safeworded. You did marvelously, even if I nearly broke your character.”

“You are a bit of a brat,” the shorter former clandestine sorcerer snorted, finally done cleaning up Adrian the best he could. The shirt would still have to be washed, though.

The Blade wiggled his hips, aware of how it absurd it looked with his exposed, flaccid cock. “I’m your brat and I enjoy your punishments, I can’t lie,” he replied as he took off his shirt, feeling completely drained of energy. He would definitely need an actual, proper nap now, both to decompress from their intense play and from the fact he just had a fairly intense orgasm.

Orbeck simply scoffed with a smile, helping him get off his boots and pants.The Blade happily gulped down the offered water, his throat absolutely parched and sore.

“Want to take a nap with me? I think I’m still a bit groggy from what you put in the wine. At least I feel relaxed,” Adrian asked, slowly standing up with his partner at his side, doing his best to support someone a good foot and four inches taller than himself, not at all helped by the fact he was short to begin with. It put Orbeck right at his chest, though in Adrian’s defense, he pretty much towered over everyone except the Divines and the Silver Knights (who were of Divine descent anyways).

“I think I will,” he replied, “Though, I’m going to go get Selene and bring her back into your room so she can sleep with us.”

The lanky Blade curled up in his large bed, naked and happy. “Mm, alright,” he murmured, curling up under a thick blanket, “Tell Anri thank you for me.” He closed his eyes, and felt Orbeck kiss his forehead again and ruffle his head of thick, long curls. Never had he felt safer and more cared for as the man made sure he was fully tucked in.

One tall, curly haired brunet Blade curled up with his shorter boyfriend that long twilight, his fluffy snow white hound sleeping in her dog bed at the front of her owners.


End file.
